I have tender patches, bruises almost, on the heels of my hands. Normally they're fine, but once in a while I'll knock them on something or pick up something large (a box of cat-food packets, for example) and there will be a little twinge, a sudden explosion. I was puzzled about the pain for a couple of weeks, the way it wained and waxed, wondering about RSI or yoga, or the way the exercise bike vibrates when someone's flailing on the treadmill next to it.What had been going on? I hadn't banged my hands on anything....
Oh, I thought. Oh yes. That, maybe.
Once a week I've been slipping up to the allotment between the end of the working day and the beginning of the evening. Digging for between fifteen and forty-five minutes, depending on how much time I have, how rainy it is, how bright the twilight is and, of course, my own patience. Digging in a basic, lazy way, peeling off the roughturf and couch grass and stacking the turfs.
So January on the allotment was kind of one note and has injured me a bit. Digging out couch grass, drowning couch grass, drying couch gass. Here and there I hit garbage - plastic sheets, tarpaulins, bin liners. It was probably all put down to suppress weeds, but the weeds grew through it, then over it and locked it to the ground. You can cut through stuff like this with a hard spade-hit, sometimes. Other times you're left chasing trails of weed-stitched semi-buried rock solid threads and mats through the soil, yanking it with the fork, trying to get it out. Either way, that's what happened to my hands.
Wildlife seen has included jackdaws, crows, kites, allotment fox and allotment cat. Produce has been sparse, just horseradish and sage. I haven't seen any of my co-allotmenteers, I've heard the gate go a couple of times, but not seen anyone. It's very much an allotment for introverts, which suits me well.
It's too cold to plant anything yet. But I'm making plans. There's a cylindrical yellow beetroot I grew a few years ago, that grows hard and roasts well. Salsify sounds like something interesting to try. Sunflowers.
But first, the rest of the allotment needs to be dug.
Oh, I thought. Oh yes. That, maybe.
Once a week I've been slipping up to the allotment between the end of the working day and the beginning of the evening. Digging for between fifteen and forty-five minutes, depending on how much time I have, how rainy it is, how bright the twilight is and, of course, my own patience. Digging in a basic, lazy way, peeling off the roughturf and couch grass and stacking the turfs.
So January on the allotment was kind of one note and has injured me a bit. Digging out couch grass, drowning couch grass, drying couch gass. Here and there I hit garbage - plastic sheets, tarpaulins, bin liners. It was probably all put down to suppress weeds, but the weeds grew through it, then over it and locked it to the ground. You can cut through stuff like this with a hard spade-hit, sometimes. Other times you're left chasing trails of weed-stitched semi-buried rock solid threads and mats through the soil, yanking it with the fork, trying to get it out. Either way, that's what happened to my hands.
Wildlife seen has included jackdaws, crows, kites, allotment fox and allotment cat. Produce has been sparse, just horseradish and sage. I haven't seen any of my co-allotmenteers, I've heard the gate go a couple of times, but not seen anyone. It's very much an allotment for introverts, which suits me well.
It's too cold to plant anything yet. But I'm making plans. There's a cylindrical yellow beetroot I grew a few years ago, that grows hard and roasts well. Salsify sounds like something interesting to try. Sunflowers.
But first, the rest of the allotment needs to be dug.
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